


Figments Of Power

by BlackPepper3964



Series: 'Forbearance' Universe [5]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Higurashi Kagome, Dark Kagome, F/M, Gen, Ghost!Jim Moriarty, Hurt Kagome, Moriarty Is A Dick, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackPepper3964/pseuds/BlackPepper3964
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Forbearance. Ghosts from the past start haunting Kagome, John and Sherlock - not that the boys notice. John has more of an idea of an idea to Kagome’s strange behaviour, but she refuses to tell him anything. Can she protect them all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Relationship?

Sherlock moved in the day after he ‘came back from the dead’ for John, Mrs Hudson and Kagome. Admittedly, John was furious, and with good reason. He’d pretended to be dead for three years, leaving everyone to mourn him - well, those that actually cared -, and then come back as if nothing had happened. Kagome had left them alone for two hours while she went out. When she came back she looked amused and yet annoyed in equal measure. He didn’t know why until John had asked if she’d had a nice tea with Mycroft. She’d laughed and said something in reply that he didn’t hear, too shocked to do anything. _Well_ , said the logical part of his brain as it slapped him for his stupidity, _she did say that Mycroft had texted her._  
  
Kagome left John and him alone for the most part, apart from when she went to bed about ten o’clock, giving John a kiss on the cheek and saying goodnight. John had grabbed her hand as she went past and kissed it, wishing her sweet dreams teasingly, watching her departure. Sherlock had commented on the exchange, but John shook his head and continued asking him questions. While answering them, he heard Kagome moving around John’s room. He assumed that they were in a relationship - a fairly advanced one at that. It wasn’t that much of a surprise. He was away for three years - to think that John wouldn’t have a relationship in that time was ludicrous.  
  
The next morning he was awoken by the kettle boiling and he sat up, shocked, half because of the fact that he’d fallen asleep in the first place, and half because he hadn’t heard anyone coming down. He made his way to the kitchen, only half-surprised to find Kagome preparing a cup of tea. She turned towards him as he entered.  
“Tea?” He shook his head.  
  
“Coffee. Black, two sugars.” She nodded, taking out another cup. She smiled softly all of a sudden and chuckled.  
  
“Yes, John, Sherlock really is here! He wants a coffee!” She called. They both heard a muffled thump and some cursing. Kagome started outright laughing. She was still snickering when John came into the kitchen, hair still ruffled from sleep and an annoyed look on his face.   
  
“Kagome.” He grumbled. “You know not to do that while I’m in bed!” She turned and smiled at him.  
  
“But, John,” She teased. “You know how much I like seeing you afterwards.”  
  
“Stupid bond, stupid women, why do I even bother?” She abandoned the drinks for a moment and walked up to him, her hand reaching up to his arm, where she rubbed comfortingly.  
  
“I know.” She sighed dramatically, a grin threatening to emerge. “But you knew exactly what you were getting into.” _Teasing John is so much fun_ , thought Kagome, _I could do it all day!_ John smiled fondly in response.  
  
“Indeed I did.” Sherlock cleared his throat, bringing their attention to the fact that he was still present and still waiting for his coffee. He was also curious about the comments that obviously had a deeper meaning.  
  
“Well, John, congratulations on entering a stable romantic relationship. You too, Kagome - though I’m not sure what your previous relationships were like.” Kagome closed her eyes and swallowed heavily.   
  
Taking a deep breath and forcing a smile onto her face, she replied cautiously to Sherlock. “They were dangerous. And John and I are not in a relationship.” Her words were cold and a far cry from how she was usually. John was apparently not in agreement.  
  
“Kagome.”   
  
“John.” Something in her tone was off, insinuating to something unknown to Sherlock, but John seemed to understand. He looked at Sherlock, shrugging.   
  
“She’s right. We don’t really have a relationship.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Did they really think they could fool him? For God’s sake! Kagome was sleeping in John’s room - _with John_! What did they think he thought they were doing, playing Cluedo?  
  
“Well then, my apologies.” He obviously didn’t mean it and by the way Kagome’s eyes narrowed and a smirk appeared on her lips, she noticed. John looked alarmed for a moment at her expression and nudged her discreetly. She blinked and the smirk disappeared, replaced by a mask of affability. Surprise suddenly crossed her features for a second before she looked curious. She looked up at John.   
  
“Lestrade’s here. Why is he here? It’s my day off!” She asked, annoyed and curious in equal measure.   
  
Minutes later, the door opened, revealing Lestrade. Everyone, now with their respective drinks, looked up at him. But Lestrade’s gaze was fixed on one person only. Sherlock. Then he looked pleadingly at Kagome and John.   
  
“Please tell me I’m either hallucinating or this is a really bad joke.” He said, looking on the verge of panicking. Kagome rose from her seating position and walked carefully towards Lestrade, hands up in a pacifying gesture as she saw violence rising beneath the surface.  
  
“Lestrade.” Kagome said soothingly. “He’s real, he’s here. You’re not mental and you haven’t lost your nerve.” Anger crossed his face, curling his mouth into a heavy scowl. He started forward, intent on punching the smug git in the face, when Kagome intercepted him with surprising strength. “Calm down, sir. He had a good reason for his faked suicide, but not telling you after a safe amount of time… I can’t that was the wisest of decisions.” Disapproval was clear in her expression. Lestrade calmed down slightly.  
  
“Tell me he’s been hit at least once.” Kagome smiled slightly.  
  
“I slapped him, really, really hard. Two days ago.” The DI’s eyes widened as he took in the bruise on the detective’s face, red still making the shape of a hand.  
  
“You did that?” He breathed, impressed. She shrugged sheepishly.   
  
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m assuming you have a case for me?” Lestrade nodded. She pouted. “On my day off?” He grinned and nodded again.  
  
“I promise, it’s worth your time - none of us can figure it out and I know how much you like to have one-up on Anderson and Donovan.” She rolled her eyes and heaved a long-suffering sigh.  
  
“Very well. I shall take time out of my precious day off to solve your goddamn case.” She turned to John, looking at him imploringly. “Come with? Please?” John chuckled.   
  
“Okay.” Kagome turned to Sherlock.  
  
“Give me a chance to show off? You don’t really know what I do, do you?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Indeed he didn’t and he was, admittedly, unaware of what she did as her job. It was fairly clear she worked at the Yard, most likely as a detective, but other than that, he had no idea why she was so important, or what made her methods different from everyone else’s. He nodded, making her grin.  
  
“Great! I’ll go with Lestrade and you two can take a cab!” She said excitedly, jumping up and down on the spot. She practically ran out of the flat with Lestrade following at a more sedate pace behind her, shaking his head at her eagerness. Slightly disturbed, Sherlock turned to John.  
  
“Is she always like that?” John smiled.  
  
“Pretty much. I’ll tell you more on the way about what she does.” While John would tell Sherlock of the job she had at the Yard, he had absolutely no intention of telling him about Kagome’s employment to Mycroft and her abilities.   
  
Sherlock nodded and got ready to go. “John?” Almost feeling like he did on the first case he and Sherlock had together, John grinned.  
  
“Ready when you are.” With Sherlock’s mystical powers, they caught a cab within the first few seconds of Sherlock raising his arm.  
  
  



	2. Threat?

John and Sherlock got out of the taxi to see Kagome walking around the body and Lestrade standing off to the side. “John.” Kagome called, obviously feeling his presence. He walked to meet her with Sherlock at his side. She turned to him and smiled, though there was a detached look in her eyes. Sherlock’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. After seeing how she was in the flat, he just had to watch her at a crime scene. Already, the cold, detached look in her eyes made him wonder what had happened in her past as he looked to Lestrade and noted the disgust and horror in his eyes. He walked to Lestrade, standing near him at the corner of the scene. Lestrade looked up at him in question.

“I thought you would have been all over that body already, spewing off deductions.” Sherlock hesitated slightly.

“I want to know what Kagome is like. She is… strange.” He stumbled over the word, not sure if that was the right one for the way she was. Lestrade paused for a second, debating his words, and then nodded.

“True. Strange… but brilliant.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow and turned to watch Kagome, who was talking with John in whispers. She walked around the body, taking notes as she went onto a notebook she had procured from nowhere. Five minutes later she walked towards them with a smile, ripping the page from her notebook and handing it Lestrade.

“Everything you need to know is on here, including where you’ll find the perpetrator. Really, this was child’s play, but thanks for it anyway.” She turned away, still smiling, the detached look no longer present. “Come on John, Sherlock! We have to watch Agatha Christie’s Poirot!” John rolled his eyes in good humour and followed after her when she began walking. Sherlock stayed behind, wanting to talk with Lestrade for a bit longer about the way Kagome acted and the way she responded to a dead body.

John had finally caught up to Kagome when she tilted her head as if someone had called her name. She stopped walking immediately, eyes wide as she slowly turned to look at Sherlock and Lestrade. She kept in mind that no one else knew about her apart from Mycroft and John, but decided it was definitely worth the risk. She took off running back the crime scene and jerked Sherlock to her while he was mid-sentence.

“What do you think you are doing?” Sherlock hissed.

“Kagome! That was rude. Why did you do that?” Lestrade said, almost ready to yell at her. He did cut her a lot of slack, but that was no excuse for her behaviour. John half-jogged over to her also wondering why, but something in her posture alerted him that whatever was going on was not good. Meanwhile, Kagome had paid no attention to either of the men in front of her, still keeping a firm grip on Sherlock’s sleeve. She stared at the wall behind the two annoyed people, who noticed her lack of attention, infuriating Lestrade and raising curiosity from Sherlock. She was calm, but alert and on guard.

A few seconds later, aware that Lestrade, Sherlock, and John could see her but no one else, she changed personalities, taking a massive risk. Her eyes lightened to silver and became hard, sharpening to points, dangerous and willing. A smirk twitched at the corner of her lips as she realised who it was who was threatening her and her companions. John, who had seen this change before and knew exactly what that meant, was immediately wary of their surroundings, but knew that, really, there was nothing he could do to protect them. Kagome was an expert in her field and he wasn’t. None of them were. The best they could do was run away if she told them to do so. So, while still being ready, he carefully watched Sherlock and Lestrade’s reactions to see if they would be a threat. It really didn’t matter if they tried to get Kagome into a mental home or into some kind of care - Mycroft would get her out anyway. Though, he revised, he may leave it a week or so, just to torture her a little bit, seeing as how Mycroft apparently had a secret sense of humour when it came to Kagome. It may be quite dry and dark, but it was still humour.

Sherlock had silenced the insults ready to come out from his mouth as soon as he noticed Kagome’s attention was elsewhere, his curiosity about who she really was increasing as he saw her entire being completely shift. Her eyes turned cold and hard, her posture changed as well, ready to flee or fight; her strength seemed to have increased. He had no idea what was going on and he was sure that Lestrade didn’t have a clue either. He turned to John and immediately found available data. It was obvious that John knew something about this. He had noted the change and then he’d adjusted his outlook to fit what ever this personality change meant. John had shifted his footing, ready to flee, but also looked around, searching for an apparent threat.

He saw the moment that John surrendered basic control to Kagome, yet shifted his eyes between he and Lestrade, suspicion becoming apparent in his expression, as well as protectiveness as he took a step closer to Kagome, almost glaring at them both. Lestrade became more and more irate as he realised that Kagome was paying next to no attention to the telling off he was giving her, yet his words froze in his throat as she seemed to just change. He shivered involuntarily. This was a very advanced version of what he saw in her eyes at crime scenes.

Idly, he wondered if this was her actual state and if what he saw nearly everyday was fake. It never crossed his mind that they were both real. John seemed relaxed, even more so than usual, when she switched and glanced between him and Sherlock with increasing suspicion. He studied John carefully and noticed that he was very close to Kagome and had his hand very near to where his gun would have been on his hip if he were allowed to wear one. Both of Lestrade’s brows rose in surprise, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been - after all they were lovers and obviously they were smitten with each other. But if even John isn’t alarmed about Kagome, then neither was he, really. John wouldn’t let it get too out of hand, surely.

“Good.” Kagome suddenly hissed, startling them all. Even her voice was cold and harsh. John sighed, wishing that she wouldn’t do this in front of people. “Come, John.” She turned, looking sideways at him as she passed. He understood and nodded in reply. He gave a long look to Sherlock and Lestrade before turning and walking away at the side of Kagome.


	3. Information Gathering

Kagome was silent for a long while as they walked away from the scene. John trailed along next to her, wondering where they were going. With a start, he recognised the basic direction as Kagome’s apartment, which she still owned, not having given it up after moving into John’s room with him at Baker Street. Her explanation had been that if their relationship botched up at some point, she’d always be able to move out immediately. Not to mention it gave her a place to rest if she’d been working on a special case and was closer to the apartment than 221b. Not really willing to walk all the way there and then have to go back, he gently held her hand as they walked.  
  
Finally, she spoke. “Moriarty. Who was he?” Her tone was extremely distracted, and John wondered what it was that occupied her mind. Obviously, it was about whatever happened today. He started to explain with a sigh.  
  
“He was the consulting criminal. Sherlock’s opposite - I think that’s how he thought of himself. He sponsored a serial killer, a cabbie, to kill as many people as he could with two bottles, filled with pills. One bottle was just an ordinary painkiller, the other was poison. He killed four people with that before he tried it on Sherlock and I shot him.” John was definitely thanking any deity out there that there were no people around to hear any of this. “He… threatened to blow up five people, including me.” He hesitated slightly with his next step when Kagome suddenly snarled. “He blew up one of them because she started to describe his voice and he couldn’t afford to be recognised so early in the game. He dated Molly Hooper to get her to introduce him to Sherlock, pretending he was gay. He paid thirty million pounds for a fake painting - one of the puzzles in the great game - he’d threatened a child that time and gave Sherlock on ten seconds to figure it out. He did, thankfully.”  
  
“John.” Kagome sighed. “What about after the game?” John frowned in thought.  
  
“Umm, Irene Adler. The Woman, as she was professionally known, used some photographs to get Mycroft’s attention, and thereby Sherlock’s. Turned out that instead of a power play, she was really working for Moriarty. He ‘gave [her] a bit of advice’, apparently. Anyway, Sherlock stopped her and then she was beheaded in Karachi a month or so later. We told Sherlock she was in America, got herself into a witness protection scheme.” Kagome nodded distractedly, before what he’d said sunk in. Her head turned to him suddenly, her feet pausing.  
  
“Who did you say she was?” She asked quietly.  
  
“Irene Adler. A Dominatrix - she was professionally known as The Woman.” Kagome tilted her head.  
  
“Did Sherlock go anywhere between defeating Irene and when you found out she was dead?” He nodded.  
  
“He took a few private cases in-between. I had to work at the clinic during that time so I couldn’t go with. He went to Cornwall for two weeks and then spent another week in Scotland.” A smile appeared on her lips and she tilted her head to the side.  
  
“Well I hate to disappoint, John, but Irene Adler is not dead. Those two weeks, they’re the ones he was most likely able to get out of the country to Karachi and save her. Scotland was the actual case. He’d probably tracked her for that time and then saved her just in time.” John’s eyebrows rose.  
  
“And why would he do that without telling me? And how do you know that?” Kagome shrugged and looked away.   
  
“I may or may not have encountered Irene while in my depression about two months after I returned. She may have come to Japan a few weeks previous. She may have helped me come out of it a bit.” She smiled in reminiscence. “She was very…engaging. And very confident.” He smiled crookedly.  
  
“Do I need to be jealous? My… what are you anyway? My lover? Anyway, you being involved with her and sounding like you’d like to do it again.” Kagome grinned and winked.  
  
“Oh, no need. Of course, you’re always welcome to watch.” She watched him choke on air before having mercy. “And what about the Fall. What did you call it? The Reichenbach Falls?” John nodded, completely sober.  
  
“Yes. Moriarty broke into Pentenville Prison, the Tower of London and the Bank of England. He went to trial, offered no defence and still got away scot-free. He used an alias by the name of Richard Brook.” He paused as Kagome shuddered. Curious and worried, he continued a little further, keeping the details to the interesting bits only. “Sherlock told me that Richard Brook in German was Reichenbach - the case that made Sherlock’s name famous. He framed Sherlock for orchestrating the kidnapping of some ambassador’s children. He dragged Sherlock’s name through the mud and then summoned him to the roof of St. Barts. They had a little talk and then you know the rest.” Kagome nodded thoughtfully.  
  
“Have you noticed anything strange around you at all since the Fall? Like things going missing, or being moved somewhere else?” John frowned confusedly and shook his head.  
  
“No, why?” Kagome narrowed her eyes and didn’t reply for a moment. She wondered if it was her appearance in John’s life, or if it was Sherlock’s, or both, that had caused the spirit to decide to suddenly haunt them - her specifically, seeing as how it’s power level was far too low to actually affect anyone without the spiritual sensitivity. But she had noticed little things going missing now and again, and she’d also noticed a tingling sensation sometimes that usually indicated a spirit was nearby. Well, technically, they were souls, but spirits tended to be the general term for them.  
  
“Thank you. Sherlock will be wondering about where you are, so you go back to Baker Street - I’ll be back by tonight.” John nodded and started back, but Kagome called his name, making him turn around. “Also, can you explain to Lestrade about the basics of what I am and about my change? He wouldn’t accept it well from me, I would think.” John raised his hand and carried on walking. Taking a deep breath, Kagome continued on to her apartment.  
  
She sat down on the sofa and sighed. “Okay. Let’s do this.” She looked to the chair opposite, unsurprised to find Moriarty sitting there, grinning. “What do you want?”   
  
“I want Sherlock to complete my fairytale.” He stood up and walked towards her slowly, tone conversational. Kagome bristled, sparks of reiki flickering outwards. “I want Sherlock dead, his name dragged down by the media, Big Brother ruined, Sherlock’s pet useless and grieving, and the DI’s career over.” Kagome hissed.   
  
“As if I’d actually let you do any of that. Sherlock is a good man, John is not a pet and Lestrade does not deserve to loose his job. As for Mycroft… I doubt he’ll ever be ruined.” Moriarty paused and seemed to think for a bit.   
  
“I think you deserve to know more about what happened three years ago.” He waved a hand and an apple floated out from the kitchen. It hovered in front of her. “Go on, touch it. Don’t worry,” He rolled his eyes. “It won’t harm you or anything. You’ll only see what happened at the pool, with John as my unwilling suicide bomber and after my trial.” Kagome snarled silently at the mention of John, but still reached out a hand and grabbed hold of the apple.

* * *

“Do you know what happens if you don’t leave me alone, Sherlock, to you?” Moriarty was threateningly casual. Kagome watched, standing inside the memory, the spirit of Moriarty next to her. She saw John behind Moriarty, strapped to enough semtex to destroy the building, and her heart clenched. She had to resist going to him, despite the fact that she knew that they weren’t really there. Next to her, Moriarty chuckled, having noticed the urge by her body language.  
  
 _“Calm down, my dear, no need to get worked up.”_  
  
“Oh, let me guess. I get killed.” To be honest, Kagome wasn’t surprised Sherlock had come to this conclusion.    
  
“Kill you?” Moriarty’s expression twisted as if in pain. “Mm, no. Don’t be obvious. I mean, I’m gonna kill you anyway, someday. I don’t want to rush it though, I’m saving it up for something special - no, no, no, no, no.” He looked Sherlock straight in the eye, no more nonsense, as he shook his head slowly. “If you don’t stop prying… I will burn you. I will burn… the heart out of you.” Kagome’s eyebrows rose, surprised at the lack of detail.  
  
 _“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that later.”_  
  
“I’ve been reliably informed that I don’t have one.” Moriarty gave him a knowing smile. 

“But we both know that’s not quite true.” Sherlock blinked and Kagome could practically see him thinking ‘shit’. There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again. “Well, I’d better be off.” The pleasant tone was back. “So nice to have had a proper chat.” Though what he said gave the impression he was going to leave, his actions showed the exact opposite - he was making no move whatsoever to move away from the man pointing his gun at him. Sherlock took a deep breath suddenly and the gun jerked with it.   
  
“What if I was to shoot you now, right now?” Moriarty looked amused. He clearly knew that Sherlock had absolutely no intention of shooting him. Gathering what information she knew about Sherlock, Kagome knew he had enjoyed the game, the puzzles, so she knew it as well.  
  
“Well then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face.” His mouth opened comically as he took on a mock surprised expression. “‘Cos I’d be surprised, Sherlock, really I would. And just a teensy bit… disappointed. And of course, you wouldn’t be able to cherish it for very long.” Moriarty paused again. “Ciao, Sherlock Holmes.” He walked out, Sherlock following him with his gun, moving closer to John.  
  
“Catch… you… later.” There was a pause, and then:  
  
“No you won’t!” False cheer and seriousness was heavy in Moriarty’s parting words. As soon as Sherlock was sure he was gone, he knelt at John’s feet and pried the bomb vest off of him. Kagome literally breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the strap getting undone.  
  
“All right? Are you all right?” John seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in.  
  
“Yeah, fine. Sherlock. Sherlock!” His final call of his flat-mate’s name was part scolding and part relief as he tugged a little too hard to get the coat off him and sent it sliding across the floor. When he went to check Moriarty really was gone, John’s knees went weak and he stumbled forward, towards the stalls so he could lean against them. It seemed like the adrenalin was wearing off. Kagome sighed. _Well, at least he wasn’t hurt, I think._ She thought, suddenly wondering how he managed to get himself kidnapped anyway. And what _was_ Sherlock doing there?   
  
Sherlock walked back in and paced, scratching the back of his head with the gun. Was wielding a gun in such a manner wise? Kagome didn’t think so, though it did leave her quite amused.  
  
“That er… thing that you er… did with the um…” Sherlock cleared his throat, clearly unwilling to be too sentimental and not sure how to voice his thoughts. “That you offered to do… that was um… good.” Then he straightened his suit, obviously uncomfortable, making Kagome giggle.  
  
“Well, I’m glad no one saw that.” John said, trying to lighten the mood. Sherlock’s reply was little more than an impatient, questioning grunt. “You ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool - people might talk.” Sherlock shook his head.  
  
“People do little else.” Then he stopped, grinning at him, and they shared a laugh. John made to get up, but paused, cutting off a curse when he noticed a red dot dancing on his chest. Kagome’s breath hitched and she turned to Moriarty’s spirit, who grinned at her, in surprise.  
  
“Sorry, boys! I’m so changeable!” Moriarty appeared again, his tone joyful and not in any way apologetic. _‘If you’re going to apologise, at least make it sound convincing!’_ Kagome thought, glaring at Moriarty. “It is a weakness with me, but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness - you can’t be allowed to continue. You just can’t.” Moriarty laughed shortly. “I would try to convince you but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!” Both John and Sherlock shared a look for a tense few seconds before John finally nodded. Kagome held her breath - the tension was palpable.  
  
“Probably my answer’s crossed yours.” Sherlock slowly pivoted on his heel, raising his gun as he did so. He first aimed at Moriarty himself, but changed his target to be the bomb vest and coat. Moriarty raised an eyebrow and moved his head in a way that said ‘touché’. Things were tense for at least twenty seconds before Moriarty smiled a bit before straightened his face out completely as ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gee’s echoed through the near-deserted swimming pool. Kagome choked on a laugh. She couldn’t help herself. The song was so out of context that it just… it was just funny. Moriarty smiled.  
  
 _“Like my ring tone, Kagome?”_ Remembering where she was and what she was watching, Kagome glared at him. Seemingly knowing her thoughts, he just winked.  
  
Meanwhile, Moriarty’s face never changed, even while the song continued to play out. Sherlock was looking around to find the source. Finally, when it seemed it wasn’t going to stop, Moriarty’s face twisted with exasperation.  
  
“Do you mind if I answer that?” It was said as if the phone call, as it was now apparent it was just that, had interrupted him making dinner or something equally mundane. Sherlock moved his gun in a go-ahead gesture.  
  
“Oh no, please. You’ve got the rest of your life.” His voice, while casual, had a threatening undertone that they all noticed, but Moriarty ignored.   
  
Jim dug out his phone from his pocket and answered it with an annoyed, “Hello? Yes, of course it is, what do you want?” He looked towards Sherlock and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’ Sherlock just shrugged. ‘It’s fine.’ “… Say that again!” It was shouted and it made Kagome jump. His voice had calmed down significantly when he next spoke. “Say that again and know that if you’re lying to me, I will find you, and I will _skin_ you.” Sherlock and John exchanged looks. “Wait.” He put the phone down and walked towards them, but kept his eyes on the floor to the right of the coat. He paused and, with a slightly spaced out look on his face, spoke as his eyes lifted to Sherlock. “Sorry, wrong day to die.”   
  
Sherlock nodded towards the phone in Moriarty’s hand. “Oh. Did you get a better offer?” Moriarty looked down at the phone, as if he hadn’t realised it was still there, and then looked back up at him, not answering the question.  
  
“You’ll be hearing from me, Sherlock.” Then he turned away, putting the phone back to his ear and carrying on the conversation as if he hadn’t been almost killed only moments before while he swaggered out of the room. “So if you have what you say you have, I’ll make you rich. If not, I’ll make you into _shoes_.” Just before he got to the door, he raised an arm and snapped his fingers, removing the red dotted threats from the two occupants left in the room, and walked out the room.

* * *

The scene abruptly changed, and suddenly they were both in 221b’s sitting room. Thankfully, there was no John being threatened and it was just Sherlock and Moriarty this time. It started from when Sherlock had just poured out some tea for Moriarty. Kagome chortled as she saw that the detective had put the teacup the wrong way round - on purpose, surely, as he’d most definitely deduced what Moriarty’s dominant hand was at the Pool.  
  
“Every fairytale needs a good, old-fashioned villain.” Moriarty said and then smiled in the creepiest way Kagome had ever seen. Sherlock looked unimpressed. “You need me,” He continued with a straight face. “Or you’re nothing. Because we’re just alike, you and I.” Moriarty picked up his tea cup and silently scoffed behind it. “Except you’re boring - you’re on the side of the angels.”  
  
“You got to the jury, of course.” Sherlock commented, seemingly unaffected by the criminal’s comment.  
  
Moriarty gave a disbelieving look. “I got into the Tower of London - you think I can’t work my way into twelve hotel rooms?” Sherlock sighed, undoing his jacket button to sit down.  
  
“Cable network.”   
  
“Every hotel bedroom has a personalised TV screen, and every person has their pressure point, someone that they want to protect from harm.” His lips twitched. “Easy peasy.” Kagome glared at the apparition next to her.  
  
 _“Nothing changes, Kagome. Everyone‘s the same.”_ Kagome scoffed.  
  
 _“You think I don’t know that?”_ Moriarty tilted his head, but said nothing in reply. She narrowed her eyes. Was she looking too much or too little into that? That could be a taunt, or it could be a warning. That was the problem with spirits - no matter what they did in their life, they could still choose to help people out if they wished, or simply stir things up.  
  
“So how are you going to do it…” Sherlock blew gently into his cup, cooling down his tea. “Burn me?” Moriarty smiled slightly.  
  
“Oh that’s the problem. The final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?” He grinned. Sherlock stayed impassive. “What’s the final problem? I did tell you, but did you listen?” He sang and put down his left hand, resting it on his knee. There, the fingers began tapping a kind of - _rhythm_. Confused, Kagome turned to Moriarty. He shrugged.  
  
 _“Binary code. It doesn’t actually do anything, just as what I’m about to say isn’t true. It was all part of the game, ensuring Sherlock tried to think that everything was clever, when it was actually very simple. It was funny,”_ He said, gazing at Sherlock. _“How completely Sherlock was taken in by what I was saying, not even suspecting for a moment that I was lying, despite the fact we were enemies.”_ Kagome snorted.  
  
 _“And this is why the stupidity of men will always astound me. And what is with the tea? What’s the point of it?”_ Moriarty shrugged again.  
  
 _“We may have been enemies, but we were still British.”_ Was all he offered in reply. Kagome rolled her eyes. Why did she even bother?  
  
“How hard do you find it? Having to say I don’t know?” Moriarty asked casually.  
  
Sherlock shrugged, putting his teacup down on the table nearby. “I don’t know.” The consulting criminal laughed.  
  
“Oh, that’s clever, that’s very clever. Awfully clever…” He trailed off, taking a sip of tea. Sherlock smiled tightly. “Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?” Sherlock put fingers together in front of him.  
  
“Told them what?” An edge was underlining the words, threatening the man opposite.  
  
“Why I broke into all those places but never took anything.” He said lightly.  
  
“No.”  
  
“But you understand.” Moriarty picked up an apple and got out a knife, beginning to carve into it and eat it.  
  
“Obviously.” Sherlock said, as if bored. Kagome knew he was anything but.  
  
“Off you go then.” He ate a bit of apple, almost commanding the detective to tell him what he knew.  
  
Sherlock looked at him in mild derision. “You want me to tell you what you already know?” He mocked.  
  
“No, I want you to _prove_ that you know it.” He reassured.  
  
“You didn’t take anything because you don’t need to.” Moriarty nodded.  
  
“Good.” It was obvious he wanted Sherlock to elaborate.  
  
“You’ll never need to take anything ever again.”  
  
“Very good. Because?” Moriarty hinted.  
  
“Because nothing, _nothing_ -” Moriarty paused in what he was doing for a second. “In the bank of England, the tower of London or Pentenville prison could possibly match the value of the key that could open all three.” Beside her, Moriarty chortled.   
  
_“I still can’t believe that he fell for that. Originally, I had something else in mind to say, but then, after that, I just had to improvise and see how far I could string him along!”_ Kagome was only half-listening.  
  
“I can open any door, anywhere, with a few tiny lines of computer code.” Moriarty smiled momentarily. Due to what he’d said earlier, Kagome knew it was more out of amusement that he’d so completely fooled Sherlock than any smugness of his supposed power. “There’s no such thing as a private bank account now, they’re all mine. No such thing as secrecy - I _own_ secrecy. Nuclear codes. I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king, and, _honey_ , you should see me in a crown.” Sherlock moved his hands down the arms of the chair he was sitting in. Kagome glanced at Moriarty sideways.  
  
 _“God, you really winged it, didn’t you?”_ He shrugged sheepishly, eyes still shining in amusement.  
  
 _“He still believed it. Who‘s the one you should be mocking?”_ Kagome tilted her head forward in a small, regal nod.  
  
 _“Touché.”_  
  
“You were advertising all the way through the trial, you were showing the world what you could do.” Sherlock smiled slightly with the realisation.  
  
“And you were helping.” That smile slid straight off Sherlock’s face, transforming into a scowl. His features were so expressive in that moment, that it was just comical to Kagome. She snickered. Moriarty glanced at her, but said nothing. “Big client list - world governments, intelligence communities, terrorist cells - they all want me. Suddenly, I’m Mr. Sex.” He took another bite of the apple. Kagome rose both eyebrows disbelievingly.  
  
 _“Mr. Sex?”_ He ginned.  
  
 _“What? It’s true. Most people in the world want sex. It was the truest analogy I could think of.”_ Kagome sighed and resisted the impulse to laugh. Sometimes he sounded like a child.  
  
“You could break any bank - what do you care about the highest bidder?”   
  
“I don’t. I just like to watch them all competing. Daddy loves _me_ the best. Aren’t ordinary people adorable?” Moriarty asked knowingly. “Well, you know - you’ve got John.” Kagome cringed. She hated the way the criminal said John’s name just then. “I should get myself a live-in one.”  
  
“Why are you doing all this?” Sherlock asked, only to be ignored as Moriarty continued with his musings.  
  
“It’d be so funny.”  
  
“You don’t want money or power, not really. What is it all for?” Moriarty leaned forward in his seat, stabbing the apple with his knife.  
  
“I want to solve the problem, our problem, the final problem.” He looked down. “It’s gonna start very soon, Sherlock. The Fall. But don’t be scared. Falling’s just like flying except there’s a more permanent destination.” Sherlock‘s lips curled, obviously displeased about being threatened in his own flat. Or maybe, piped up a small, immature corner of Kagome’s brain, it’s just he dislikes being accused of being scared of something. He stood up, doing up his jacket again in sharp, quick movements, broadcasting his irritation to the world.   
  
“I never liked riddles.” Kagome laughed before she quickly contained it. Sherlock liked puzzles, but didn’t like riddles? Weren’t riddles puzzles as well? Moriarty stood up as well, tugging his suit jacket down harshly to smooth out any wrinkles form sitting down.   
  
“Learn to.” He threatened. Because that voice couldn’t really be anything else other than a threat, could it? Although, it did remind Kagome of a child protesting to doing something and then the mother just going _‘tough, get used to it’_ before doing it anyway. “Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I. Owe. You.” And then he walked away. Sherlock followed him with his eyes. Then the scene blurred and faded.

* * *

Kagome woke up, laying down on the sofa. Moriarty was obviously gone and it was getting dark. Really, how long had she been here? She stared up at the ceiling, thinking though everything she’d learnt.   
  
It was obvious that Moriarty was showing these things for a reason, two separate scenes that involved direct conversations between he and Sherlock. Yes, most likely not the full conversations, but part of them. John was just added into the mix to annoy her. But why had he shown her these things? It wasn’t necessary in any way, and it didn’t change her opinion of anyone. There didn’t seem to be  reason to any of it. _Although_ , she thought with a smirk, _I now have something to freak Sherlock out with if he ever gets too annoying._  
  
Apart from the fact that there was a playful side to the psychopath, which didn’t really come as a surprise to her, as there was always humour in the personality of a killer, if you knew where to look. Everyone had their own special brand of humour - even Mycroft, if you looked carefully enough. Anyway, apart from that, there didn’t really seem to be any reason to show her anything.   
  
Kagome looked out the window in dismay. She couldn’t figure it out right now, and it was getting dark and she should really be getting to Baker Street. Sorting out the presence of the spirit would have to wait for a few hours. John would want to know what earlier was all about, as would Sherlock, come to think of it. She groaned. _Great. Why did I bother showing that side of me? Oh yes. John is mine and, by default, so is Sherlock._  
  
  
And so, Kagome made her way back to Baker Street, contemplating what she should tell Sherlock and John. John knew about her reiki, and so did Lestrade now, she supposed. Telling Sherlock though… she didn’t really want to unless the situation was dire, or she knew him very well - or at least longer than two or three days. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. Christ, her life was complicated.  
  
Trying to avoid as much confrontation as possible, Kagome crept up the seventeen steps to 221b. Unfortunately, she had forgotten about her bond to John. As usual, her mental, physical and emotional state was hidden from him, but she could do nothing to hide her location. As she made to creep past the sitting room, a voice stopped her in her tracks.  
  
“Don’t even think about it.” Cursing mentally, she turned, mid-step, to see John sitting in his chair, still facing the telly. Sherlock was laying on the sofa, his head lifted up to see her. She sighed. Fine then, no chance of escaping the massive telling off she was about to get.  
  
“Why, John,” She started innocently. “What could I possibly be thinking about?” He turned his head glared at her accusingly.  
  
“Escaping from the imminent talk that we are about the have.”  
  
“Dear, I do hate to destroy any illusion you may be under, but I assure you, mind-reading is not possible.” John snorted. Then he pointed to the chair opposite him.  
  
“Sit.” _Oh dear, he has his Captain Watson voice on._ Kagome thought as she hurried to obey, and then sat, slouching, in the chair, like a child about to be told off by it’s parent. She stared at her hands, resisting the urge to twiddle them anxiously.   
  
“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out before she had the change to think.   
  
“Eight hours, Kagome.” He told her, his voice firm. She shrugged petulantly.  
  
“I had things to do. I didn’t know they’d take so long.” She looked up at John and saw the frown. Valiantly, she pushed down any guilt she felt and looked back defiantly.  
  
“Kagome.” He warned. She blinked. No… surely he wouldn’t?  
  
“John?” She replied warily. He didn’t respond, instead looking at her expectantly and tapping idly on the arm of his chair. Biting her lip, she tried to think of something that would get her out of doing something that was quite embarrassing in front of other people. “John, please… Sherlock -”  
  
“Is fine where he is.” John interrupted smoothly. He didn’t even glance away to check that the detective was ‘fine’. Kagome did though and saw him watching the exchange curiously. She felt a blush heat up her face.   
  
“But John, surely -” She cut off when he crossed his legs and rose one eyebrow. The tapping was becoming more purposeful and impatient. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and let it out slowly, opening her eyes again. She found her centre and stayed there, willing herself to not notice that there were others in the room. She stood up gracefully, walked to John’s chair, and dropped gently onto her knees in front of it. She saw John’s expression flicker with surprise. What? Was he expecting her to protest? She knew she’d done wrong by making him worry with no word from her for eight hours, and so she was sorry.   
  
“Kagome?” Now he looked embarrassed. Amusement flickered across her face for a second before a contrite look replaced it.   
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry. I was… distracted and very, very busy.” Overcoming her embarrassment of her position, her mind once again focussed on the Moriarty problem. Clearly, she had get rid of him before he gained enough power to effect not only her, but John and Sherlock - even Mycroft. She narrowed her eyes. This would require a place and a weapon. Either that, or intense emotions mixed with a large amount of reiki. She hoped she had enough time to plan for the former.   
  
“Fine.” She looked up at him in surprise. What? John smiled fondly at her. “There is some leftover dinner if you want it.” Kagome nodded, but didn’t bother getting off the floor, deciding to turn around and lean against John’s armchair, mind far too focussed to be bothered with the mental concentration it would take to eat something.  
  
“What did Lestrade say?” She heard John run a hand through his hair and she could feel his hesitance. Now fully distracted by his reaction, she asked brusquely, “What is it, John?” John blew out a breath.  
  
“He is considering terminating your service and sending you a mental hospital.” Kagome froze.  
  
“What?” She heard herself ask distantly. All she felt was shock and a small amount of hurt. John replied, but she didn’t hear him. “But… we always got along.” John was concerned, Kagome noted curiously. Why was he concerned? “How could he just…?” She distantly felt fingers lift her chin and John came into view, saying something, but she couldn’t hear him. “I thought that he, of all people, wouldn’t just immediately assume I was crazy.” She muttered, John’s face coming in and out of focus and she felt the edges of something both calming and worrying tingling at her senses. She sifted her gaze to the side slightly and she saw Moriarty, who looked amused and yet… was that concern? “We worked together for more than a year…”   
  
A deep, smooth baritone penetrated the hazy fog she found herself in and it sounded so very much like Sesshoumaru that she just had to listen. “Kagome. Get yourself together. Honestly. This is pathetic.” Is what it sounded like. He was right, Kagome realised. This was no time to mope. The betrayal of comradeship was not important right now, stopping Moriarty was. As she forced herself out of the haze, she also realized that the voice talking was not, in fact, Sesshoumaru, but Sherlock. _Oh_ , she thought dazedly, _well, easy mistake to make, I suppose._ She shook her head.  
  
“Fine. I’m fine.” She said, not sure if John and Sherlock had asked any of that, but it felt like she should say it. John frowned in response.  
  
“You do know that it’s unlikely that he’d do either of those things, right? He doesn’t have any idea how to react, and he’ll most likely need a demonstration.” Kagome sneered.  
  
“I don’t do demonstrations for the general public.” John almost smiled at the return of Sarcastic and Scornful Kagome. He hadn’t had the pleasure of her presence for two weeks, nearly.  
  
“Maybe we should get Mycroft to tape one of your cases and show him what happens.” Kagome raised an incredulous eyebrow.   
  
“Yes, because I do my job right in front of a security camera, and in broad daylight.” She snarked. “Because I want to be seen by the _general public_ , doing what I do best and scaring them in the meantime. Of course, how _silly_ of me to forget to do so.” John raised an eyebrow. This was certainly a change from earlier. Three emotional changes in one night? That was big, for her. And if the personality change of that morning was taken into account, then it was high time Kagome got some sleep.   
  
“Come on.” He murmured soothingly. “Let’s get you in bed.” Kagome nodded sleepily, the defensive sarcasm flushing out.  
  
“Okay.” She yawned. She looked at Sherlock, who seemed a bit overwhelmed by her mood changes. Oh well, if he was overwhelmed, he wasn’t thinking about this morning. Even though he could just as easily be putting together her comments and John’s comments and both of their behaviour. “Goodnight Sherlock.” He waved, still a little bit stunned. John chuckled and led her upstairs, helped her into her bedclothes and tucked her in.   
  
“Goodnight, Kagome.” He was just about to leave when the hand circled his wrist. A lazy smile curled Kagome’s lips.   
  
“Join me.” He smiled.  
  
“Of course.” John was very quick to say goodnight to Sherlock and get ready for bed. Needless to say, Kagome was a little later than expected in getting to sleep. Downstairs, Sherlock sighed. And he was meant to believe that there was absolutely _no_ relationship between them? He would be sorry for doubting them, if only he wasn’t so sure that playing a board game or merely sleeping doesn’t sound like _that_. And while he did kind of want to know what had happened this morning, he was sure that he would be able to figure it out for himself without the need for questions. He smirked a little to himself.  
  
He always did like a challenge.  
  
  
  



	4. What Is Going On?

Kagome cursed under her breath as the mug, as if in slow motion, was pulled by gravity towards the unforgiving floor that would ultimately make it shatter. She didn’t hear the loud clatter, only saw the many shards of hardened clay sliding across the tiles. For a second, she saw the Shikon no Tama breaking into a million shards. Blinking, she shoved the image away and sighed as she bent down the pick up the remains of the mug.

“You alright there, Kagome?” A voice asked above her. She sighed again.

“Fine, just a bit tired.” No way was she going to tell John or Sherlock what was really going on.

 

John watched her throughout the next few days with increasing worry as Kagome only seemed to get clumsier and clumsier. And she slept later than usual as well. She was always saying that she was tired when asked if there was anything wrong, and wouldn’t say anything more. She was quieter too, and hadn’t been taking any cases whatsoever. Not even Mycroft’s cases, which, she had said, brought her a high level of satisfaction and excitement.

His brow furrowed as Kagome stumbled slightly before regaining her balance and continuing to the kitchen for more tea.

A frown turned down the lips of John’s mouth when Kagome seemed to just loose her grip on a mug and it was sent tumbling down to the floor before smashing into a hundred pieces.

But when she actually cut herself with a sharp knife while cutting carrots, his eyes narrowed. He’d had enough. Kagome’s sudden clumsiness was unusual and he had given her plenty of time to tell him in her own time. He glanced at Sherlock. It was about time he knew as well.

Sherlock had also been remarkably silent, though he watched Kagome with an intensity that he generally displayed in cases. John supposed that Kagome could be quite cryptic when she spoke about certain things and she did act strangely, but Sherlock wasn’t the type to ask questions when there was finally something to keep him away from boredom. He still took cases, but he solved them quickly and reverted back to the Curious Case of Higurashi Kagome.

That evening John resolved to question Kagome about her strange behaviour the next day. Kagome retired to bed early and so he had the perfect opportunity to see what Sherlock had found out. Although, it couldn’t be very accurate with how she’d been acting recently, but it’s always worth a try.

On second thoughts… that may not be a good idea. It was most likely that the problem lay in the spiritual and demonic part of Kagome’s world - a world which Kagome still kept mostly hidden from John, much to his irritation and understanding. Still, he was worried and Sherlock did need to know about Kagome’s secret.

 

However, the next morning did not go as originally planned for John. For starters, he’d not planned for there to be an apple on the coffee table. Kagome walked in and froze for a second before pointedly ignoring it, as if doing so would erase it from existence. Unfortunately, this did not work and the apple still very much existed as Kagome got tea and sat down. Sherlock came in and saw the apple, looked between Kagome and John curiously, sat down on the sofa, and stared at it. As if it would answer every question the detective had ever thought of. Of course, he had just as much luck as Kagome, but he stubbornly persisted.

“Sherlock.” Kagome said quietly and casually, though with a hint of threat and warning, speaking for the first time in two days. “Keep away from the apple.” Sherlock had an awful habit of doing the exact opposite of whatever people told him to do, something that John felt had stemmed from being constantly monitored by Mycroft. His hand reached out to touch it. Kagome moved her head towards him and glared. “Don’t touch it, Sherlock.”

“Why?” _Oh God, the dreaded question. Why oh why did it exist?_ John thought, rather dramatically. Kagome’s eyes narrowed.

“Just don’t. Keep away from it. Don’t touch it. Don’t even breath on it.” And then mumbled, “Maybe it will go away.” Kagome glared irritably at the wall.

“A physical impossibility unless someone touches it.” And before Kagome could protest further, Sherlock reached out and picked up the apple by the stem. And then watched, stunned and disbelieving, as it carved something on itself. John and Sherlock recognised it before it was even finished. Kagome hissed and stood up, pacing.

“Idiot. Stupid. Moron.” She said at the still stunned Sherlock. “Yes, I know!” She snarled at one corner of the room. “Thanks for making things _so_ much easier for me(!)” She growled sarcastically. Then pointedly turned her back on whatever she was talking to. 

“Kagome… do you know what’s going on?” John asked, still staring at the apple. Kagome sighed as Sherlock threw the apple at her and caught it deftly. She looked at the letters carved in the apple and then snorted.  
  
“I O U? A bit childish isn’t it? And very crudely done.” She said, obviously disappointed, and then laughed. Then she sighed. “Yes, I know what’s going on, but I didn’t anticipate it happening this soon, and I haven’t even started getting rid of the problem.” She narrowed her eyes at the apple. She went to the window and opened it, throwing the apple out and then closing the window with a satisfied glint in her eyes.  
  
“What did you do that for?” Sherlock asked petulantly. She shrugged.  
  
“It was annoying me.” Both John and Sherlock’s eyebrows climbed up their forehead in surprise. She turned to a corner of the room. “And so are you. I’ve let you do as you wish, but you are going too far.” She looked away. “I was curious,” She sighed. “And I should know by now to ignore it at this point.” She laughed harshly and let the darker side of herself come out. Grinning and baring her teeth threateningly, she looked back to the spirit that was invisible to everyone else. “But if you try anything more that you have today, I will _destroy_ you.” She hissed. John’s eyes widened. Well, at least he knew what this was about. The last time she threatened that was with Hayato.   
  
“Hey, Kagome?” She didn’t take her eyes off Moriarty, but she nodded.   
  
“ _That’s right, Kagome. Your master is calling_.” He taunted. She snarled loudly, startling Sherlock and John, but didn’t respond.   
  
“What is it, John?” She narrowed her eyes on Moriarty.  
  
“Is this going to be another thing we don’t talk about?” Startled, she turned her gaze to John. She frowned in confusion.   
  
“Another thing?” Her eyes softened slightly. “We talk about everything though.” Her eyes widened as she felt Moriarty move quickly towards her. She raised her barrier too late, he was already touching her. One hand rested on her stomach, causing pain to ripple through her body. Her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. She lasted three seconds before she fell to her knees, her legs unable to support her weight anymore. John stepped forward, alarmed, to help her.  
  
“No!” She choked out, shuddering. “Stay there.” Moriarty stroked her hair in mock sympathy.  
  
“ _There, there. I don’t usually like to get my hands dirty, but for you, darling, I will_.” She glared at him.   
  
“Really? I hadn’t guessed.” She spat sarcastically. A small frown turned down the corners of Moriarty’s lips. He tightened his grip on her stomach. Her eyes shut as she shuddered again, unable to stop a small whimper from escaping.  
  
“ _Sarcasm, my dear? Is that really wise?_ ” A sardonic quirk tilted her lips.  
  
“Of course.” She looked at him fiercely, her irises lit up with her power. “I will stop you.”   
  
Moriarty’s lips turned up in a pale imitation of a cheerful smile. “ _No you won’t_.” He sent a final pulse of power through her body and then disappeared. Kagome breathed a sigh of relief. She had no idea what that power was about, but at least he had gone - and soon to return, she had no doubt. She got to her feet, swaying slightly, and looked calmly to the two men in front of her.  
  
Smiling wryly, she said, “I’ve got a lot of explaining to do, obviously.” Her eyes then rolled back in her head as she proceeded to faint on the spot. Maybe I should have stayed on the floor, she thought, rolling mental eyes at herself.  
  
“What the - Kagome!” John barely caught her in time to cushion her fall. He sighed heavily. Sometimes he never understood why he stayed with her. He looked to Sherlock, who had his eyes narrowed in thought. “I guess I’ll put her upstairs.” Sherlock didn’t bother to reply, and merely lay back and steepled his fingers under his chin - his universal ‘don’t-talk-to-me-I’m-thinking’ position.   
  
Sighing again, John pulled Kagome into his arms and made his way to his room and put her on his bed. He tucked her in, dragging the covers over her so she was comfortable, and looked down at her for a moment.   
  
“What am I going to do with you?” He walked out of the room, losing the door, and rejoined Sherlock. Kagome could explain herself when she woke up. He had no right to speak of her secrets. For now, he’d just have to keep Sherlock at bay.  
  



	5. Confession Time

Kagome groaned as she regain consciousness, her head pounding. God, she hadn’t been knocked out like that since she’d got back from Sengoku Jidai. She sat up, wincing when the pounding in her head intensified. Carefully, she walked out of the room and made for the kitchen, wishing for nothing more than a cup of tea. Thankfully, the boys were out, leaving her to recover on her own. The last thing she need now was an interrogation - which was what was sure to happen as soon as they found out she was awake. Half way through her cup of tea, and feeling a lot better, she received a text.  
  
 _What happened? MH_. She smiled. She did like it when Mycroft showed that he was worried.  
  
 _A threat that is soon to be neutralised - no need to worry. KH_. Her phone pinged again almost immediately.  
  
 _Sherlock and John? MH_. Her thoughts darkened as she realised what he was asking.  
  
 _I made a promise, Mycroft, one I intend to keep. KH_. There was a pause as Mycroft noticeably debated on what was the safest thing to say.  
  
 _That was for John. Sherlock? MH_. She sighed.  
  
 _John is mine. Sherlock is mine by default as he is John’s closest friend. KH_. Mycroft seemed to let this sink in before replying. She didn’t blame him. She was aware that talking with her was somewhat like navigating a mine field without a map. You never knew whether you had said something wrong, so care was essential.  
  
 _I see. MH_. A wry smile touched her lips, but she didn’t reply, letting herself finish her tea.   
  
  
Two hours later, Sherlock and John came back in, evidently back from Scotland Yard, a smile on both their faces. Kagome’s heart twinged painfully, but she ignored it.  
  
“Hello, boys.” She called, relaxing on the couch and feeling the last remnants of her headache recede. She watched them share a look, and sighed mentally. Smiling grimly, she continued, “I think it’s about time I told you two what is going on.” John immediately sobered. Sherlock took off his coat and scarf, eyes still bright.  
  
“What do you mean?” They both sat down in their respective chairs. Kagome sighed outwardly this time.  
  
“As you have no doubt noticed, Sherlock, I am not what anyone else would call normal. Due to that, I have problems and cases where I have to do things my way.” She paused for a moment, eyeing Sherlock carefully. “My abilities are rather rare in this day and age, and, as a result, I have a lot to do. However, I have decided to stay in London indefinitely. Recently I have not been myself, as I am sure John has noticed. Clumsiness is something I grew out of four years ago.”  
  
“So why have you been so clumsy?” John asked.  
  
“It seems that you two have attracted a spirit, one that has… unfinished business. In the extreme. Sherlock, you do remember when I pulled you towards me at the crime scene?” Narrowed eyes, and a slow nod. “He was there then, so I had to warn him off. Luckily he was not nearly strong enough to do anything that would affect the mortal world, but he is more than powerful enough to affect the spiritual one.” She smiled bitterly. “He has not been pleasant to deal with in the least.” Her voice and expression darkened. “But he won’t last long. I will be rid of him soon enough.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow.  
  
“And you expect me to believe this? That you are some kind of…” He waved a hand eloquently, as he wasn’t quite sure what she was, but that she was either mentally unstable or telling the truth.   
  
“Miko.” John said, leaning back in his seat. “She calls herself a miko. The equivalent of a priestess.” Sherlock sighed, irritated.  
  
“I am well aware of what a miko is. I went to Japan once. But those women never claimed to be able to what? See and destroy spirits?” Kagome scoffed.  
  
“As if any of those woman are actually mikos. No, I am a real miko. Reiki and all. Power granted to us by the Gods.” Now Sherlock rolled his eyes. Offended, Kagome narrowed her eyes. “Fine, don’t believe me?” She said no more, merely letting her power flow through her body, glowing through her eyes and radiating around her body in a purple swirl. John, seemingly forgotten, closed his eyes and felt her power. It had been a long time since he’d last felt it, over four months. Sherlock looked at her closely.  
  
“Interesting.” He muttered. “She’s either drugged me or this is real.” Hissing and thoroughly insulted, Kagome pulled her reiki back into herself.  
  
“How dare you? As if I would drug you, that goes completely against my promise.” She looked at him haughtily. “I am the most powerful miko for five hundred years, and perhaps longer. I am equally or more powerful than the creator of the Shikon no Tama herself. Tell me how mentally unstable I am, Sherlock Holmes, with all that you see now.” Sherlock huffed, reluctantly believing her.  
  
“Fine, assuming I actually believe all of this, why tell me now? Why not hide it indefinitely? Why not tell me before?” Kagome sighed.  
  
“Because there is a very real threat, not fully manifested, and something that you worked so hard to rid your life of. The apple… was a warning and a symbol both.” She looked away awkwardly, not sure if she should say anything anymore.  
  
“Kagome, for God’s sake, just tell us.” Kagome looked at John, who somehow managed to look a mixture of worried, exasperated and fond all at once. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  
  
“Moriarty is our threat.” She blurted before she could stop herself again. The response would have been funny if the situation weren’t so serious. Sherlock’s mouth actually fell open and John blinked once, twice before he cursed quietly. John recovered quicker than Sherlock.  
  
“And how does he actually pose a threat? You said it yourself. Moriarty is only strong enough to affect the spiritual world.” Sherlock snapped out of himself at that and looked at her curiously. She raised an eyebrow in a ‘were-you-listening-to-me-at-all?’ look.  
  
“As I said before. While he is not yet powerful enough to display any real presence in this realm, he most definitely can affect the spiritual one and, in direct coloration, me.” She frowned. “If he can get me out of the way, then he has no one to stop him from doing his unfinished business.” Sherlock and John waited for any elaboration. When none was forthcoming, John cleared his throat pointedly.  
  
“And that is?” Kagome closed her eyes.  
  
“I asked him what he wanted and do you know what he said? I quote, ‘I want Sherlock to complete my fairytale. I want Sherlock dead, his name dragged down by the media, Big Brother ruined, Sherlock’s pet useless and grieving. And the DI’s career over.’” Her eyes opened halfway, her expression perfectly serious. She looked at them both and then changed personalities. A dark smirk tugged at one side of her mouth, threatening to turn into a smile. A short laugh barked out of her throat. “As if I would let that happen.” Her reiki came to the surface, swirling her aura around her threateningly, dark purple - as it always is what she allows her darker side free reign. Sherlock leaned back, impressed.   
  
“And what is that all about?” Kagome’s eyes went half lidded in an inviting way.   
  
“What is what all about?” She asked softly, voice still hinting danger.  
  
“That. That… change you go though. So far I’ve seen it twice. Once at the crime scene and now. You seem to just change personalities.” Kagome licked her lips and grinned viciously. John rolled his eyes.   
  
“Yes. You see, due to my past, it was necessary to be able to kill with a fairly clear conscious and there could be no hesitation. Because I have far too much compassion and caring, I decided to develop a darker side to myself.” She paused for a second and thought. “It was a lot easier than I expected it to be and it took only a few months to make certain it was there. Controlling it was a different matter entirely. It took me another four months to make sure she didn’t get a bit too bloodthirsty. Now, though, she’s just like me, except a lot more possessive and with next to no remorse for her actions. What she sees as hers is protected.” Her tone darkened. “No matter what.” She smiled cheerily. “Luckily for you, you belong to me.” Sherlock’s mouth twitched into a frown. John huffed a laugh.  
  
“Kagome, you’ve got to stop saying that. People take offence.” Kagome rose her eyebrows in a mock surprised fashion.   
  
“They don’t like that I protect them?” She smirked. “Well, if it offends people that much…” John rolled his eyes.  
  
“The bit where you say that they belong to you. It makes them sound like possessions. People don’t like it.” She looked at him thoughtfully.  
  
“Is that why you protested with Hayato?” John nodded. “Oh. Well then,” She turned back to Sherlock. “I guess I should apologise. What I meant was, I protect you. Because you’re mine.” John groaned.  
  
“Kagome! That’s just as bad!” Kagome snickered.  
  
“I know.” Sherlock cleared his throat.  
  
“So, why am I being protected by you? I have done nothing for you and we only met a week ago.” She rolled her eyes and huffed.  
  
“I was protecting John long before that - just three days after we met, actually. And I’m protecting you because I promised that I’d protect John.” Sherlock frowned in confusion.  
  
“That makes no sense. How are you protecting John by protecting me?” Kagome gave him the ‘you-must-be-an-idiot’ look.   
  
“John is mine.” She said slowly. “You are his best friend and vice-versa, correct?” Sherlock opened his mouth to reply, but Kagome didn’t wait. “Therefore, you are his. If something happened to you, do you actually think John would be happy? I protect everything I can. That includes the heart and happiness.” She made a ‘duh’ face afterwards that Sherlock took personal offence to, but he didn’t bother flinging an insult towards her. He nodded in understanding instead. A thought popped into his head.  
  
“So what else can you do?” Kagome blinked, completely thrown.   
  
“What?” He waved his hand.  
  
“Your reiki thing. What can you do with it?” Kagome mouthed ‘thing’ in a partly insulted manner. She exchanged a look with John and thought about all the things she could do - but decided that perhaps the power the Kami had given to her in repayment for her mission would be best left unsaid, only used in emergencies.   
  
“Well, I can create barriers with different properties -” She continued on for several hours, explaining what her reiki could do and constantly getting interrupted by Sherlock’s questions. It would have taken a quarter of the time if he didn’t ask questions. Kagome, exhausted by the amount of talking, went to bed earlier than usual, leaving John and Sherlock talking.  
  
  
Unfortunately, sleeping wasn’t what she was able to do, thanks to a certain dead consulting criminal. She’d just laid down, ready to have a nice relaxing sleep, when he’d appeared.  
  
“Go away.” She moaned, pulling the covers over her head. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you.” He tutted in response.  
  
“You’re never in the mood, my dear.” Kagome felt a stab of pain in her stomach and head. She flinched and pulled the covers back down, glaring at the smirking spirit just meters away.   
  
“Is this really necessary? Honestly?” Moriarty smiled serenely.  
  
“Of course. You said it yourself. I want you out of the way and I’m powerful enough to affect the spiritual world, but not the physical one. I’m getting there though. So yes, it is necessary.” Kagome grit her teeth as the pain intensified. Her hands didn’t quite know what to do, which part of her body to grip, so they just clenched at the covers.   
  
“What was the point of the whole dropping things and the dizziness though? That wasn’t really all that effective in getting rid of me, was it?” He racked up the pain a notch before replying, watching her eyes widen before closing.  
  
“Oh that was just for fun.” He chortled. “This is so much more fun than being alive.” Kagome swallowed harshly, wanting to speak but unable to, wanting bring her reiki to the surface. She tried, and her eyes shot open as made the horrible realisation that he was somehow blocking her access. She watched at him, scared and confused, as he noticed that she now knew about her reiki and grinned madly. She closed her eyes again, not wishing to look at him anymore.   
  
He tortured her for a while, sometimes upping the amount of pain she was feeling, sometimes bringing all the way down until it was just a dull ache, but always making sure she knew he was there. She hissed and moaned and groaned, wishing for it to stop. She didn’t know exactly how long he was doing that for, but she eventually heard John coming up the stairs. She whimpered in protest.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you talk to your lover. Though I wouldn‘t say that I‘m at fault for this if I were you.” Shuddering, Kagome thought that she’d never heard him sound so very menacing. But she still sighed in relief, ignoring the way he laughed, when the pain lessened. It still hurt a lot, but at least she could muster up the strength to talk. It also allowed her mind to recognise certain things, like how she was curled up into a fetal ball. Unfortunately, John came into the room before she had the chance to unfurl herself. The door opened and John saw that she was awake and obviously uncomfortable. Immediately concerned, he put a hand to her forehead to see if she had a fever or anything of the like.  
  
“Jesus, Kagome, what’s wrong?” She licked her dry lips.  
  
“I’m fine. I just couldn’t get to sleep. Carry on.” Unconvinced, but willing to play along, he nodded and continued with his nightly routine. Moriarty snickered in the corner and decided to see how long she could last before she alerted John of her problem, upping the pain gradually. Kagome, who had closed her eyes and was obviously trying to relax enough to sleep, shuddered. She sighed mentally. She should have known by his laugh that he was going to try something like this. Her fingers clenched again in the covers and she bit her lip, forcing herself to keep quiet. Suddenly, the pain receded completely and she sighed, unable to stop herself. She hoped that that was the last of it. John lay down next to her and Kagome straightened out, definitely ready to sleep. A few minutes later, just as she was dozing off, the height of what she’d already experienced slammed into her stomach, her head surprisingly pain-free. _No doubt_ , she thought darkly, _so I can talk_. But even with that knowledge, it didn’t stop her from whimpering sharply and curling into her stomach.  
  
“Kagome?” John sounded sleepy, barely awake.  
  
“John.” She whimpered, hating the way Moriarty seemed to know just how to push her limits. “Oh God, John.” He was up immediately, and hovered over her worriedly for a few seconds before pulling her into his lap.  
  
“Shh.” He said, stroking her hair. “It’s fine, it’s all fine. Where does it hurt?” Stupid question, her mind snapped, irritated beyond measure with the horrible spirit who was smirking happily.   
  
“Doesn’t matter.” Kagome gasped. “I’m fine.”  
  
“Bullshit.” He replied sharply before softening his tone. “Is this to do with Moriarty?” Said spirit cranked up the pain as a warning, reiterating what he said earlier.   
  
“No!” She cried. “No, it’s not.” She trembled as Moriarty didn’t lessen the pain at all, only laughed as she desperately tried to avert John from suspicion. She opened her eyes momentarily, wondered idly when she closed them, to see John’s skeptic expression. “I swear, I promise, that it isn’t Moriarty. Believe me.” She hissed intensely, gripping his tee-shirt in her fist. “For God’s sake, believe me!”  
  
“Okay, okay.” He soothed. “I believe you.” He didn’t say anymore, and she knew that he did, in fact, believe her. He knew that she never broke a promise. Distantly, she felt terribly guilty, but for the moment all she could feel was relief that the pain was slowly dissipating. Looking at Moriarty from the corner of her eye, she saw that he was amused and even a little bit impressed.  
  
“How well do you have him trained, I wonder?” He mused, seemingly to himself, but loud enough that she could hear him. He smirked when she hissed in outrage and then disappeared.   
  
  



	6. Problems

John and Kagome didn’t talk about that night, leaving it alone. Sherlock, thankfully, hadn’t heard anything from that night either, so he never mention it either. The day went about as normal - Sherlock creating a mess in the kitchen, Kagome enjoys another day off, and John goes to the clinic. John comes back to the flat to find Kagome lounging on the sofa, paper and books strewn all over the floor, and Sherlock still making a mess of the kitchen. He sighs, trying to ignore the sight, and makes his way to the fridge.  
  
“I wouldn’t if I were you John, there is a head, three hearts, a bag of fingers, and a kidney.” John closes his eyes, mentally asking for patience.  
  
“Thank you, Kagome. That was the last thing I needed to see today.” Kagome shrugged.   
  
“Tea’s on the table.” He looked and, to his surprise, on the table by his chair, there was indeed a cup of tea, still streaming hot. “I think Sherlock is making up for lost time.” John chuckled a little. The experiments were probably getting a little bit much, and were conducted more often than before the Fall.  
  
“Most likely.” Then they were quiet for the rest of the day until Kagome announced that she was going to bed. It was still fairly early, only nine o’clock, but no one said anything when John hastened to say that he might head to bed as well soon. Least of all Kagome. Though she was touched by his concern, there was nothing he could do.   
  
  
Lestrade came round the next day, eyeing Kagome contemplatively and keeping his tone carefully blank while he requested that Sherlock come in, though if Kagome could be there as well, it’d be good. She bristled at his tone and frostily agreed, hurt bubbling just under the surface. The crime scene wasn’t far, so they all walked. Kagome pointedly ignored Lestrade, talking only to Sherlock or John.   
  
As they walked down an alleyway, a dark chuckle came from behind Kagome seconds before she was shoved forward. She caught herself quickly and turned to face her attacker. Lestrade, John and Sherlock stopped and turned as well, confused as to why Kagome was being targeted.  
  
Kagome noticed that while her attacker was a demon, he didn’t actually want to be there. Rage filtered through her as she saw a flicker of Moriarty’s form. “That’s it! I’ve had enough of this shit!” She snarled and let her darker self take control. Her hair swayed in an invisible wind and she glowed faintly with her dark purple aura, her irises turning hard silver. This time she was the one to chuckle darkly as she summoned her reiki sword and lunged.   
  
John sighed as she swore and took on the now-very-familiar personality. “Okay, back we go.” He ushered the other two, holding out an arm to emphasise his point. “You might want to give her a bit of space. It makes it difficult for her to fight if she has to constantly worry about us all the time. Although,” He said thoughtfully, ignoring Sherlock and Greg as they looked at him incredulously, and turned to watch Kagome carefully. “It does look like she’s merely playing with him, so she’ll be fine for this one.”  
  
“John.” Greg started slowly. “She has a sword that she just materialised from nowhere and is now fighting with someone and you’re saying she’s only _playing with him_?” His voice got more and more disbelieving as he continued. John huffed.  
  
“She _always_ does the sword thing when she’s protecting people. Something about showing her opponent that she is the one with more power, and if she’s feeling particularly merciful - which never happens when she’s changed personalities like this - she’ll just make it disappear and then kill them. If not, she’ll destroy them, not that she needs the sword to do that anyway.” Sherlock frowned in confusion at the wording, but didn’t have time to ask as they heard a loud growl echo through the alleyway.  
  
The demon had gotten in a swing and caught her collarbone, her top soaking up the blood that seeped out from the wound. She stopped dead and lifted a hand to the cut, dipping her fingertips into it. She looked at the blood, licked it, and then started laughing. Not happily though, more in a ‘I’ll-enjoy-it-when-your-blood stains-the-streets’ kind of way. Her opponent paused and took in the situation. Moriarty was whispering in his ear, and the demon’s eyes darkened. He lunged for Kagome, missing her as she dodged, still laughing. She danced around him as he tried to hit her again, only to fail every time. She stopped laughing slowly, but kept smiling. She murmured something and the demon froze, only his head able to move. Kagome locked the darker side of herself away again in the deepest part of her mind.  
  
“Tell me. Do you have a mate? Pups?” A flicker of the demon’s mind came back for a second and he shook his head. Kagome nodded. “Good. Your name?”   
  
“Riku.” He gasped hoarsely. Kagome blew out slowly, the smile fading quickly. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a sutra.   
  
“I’m so sorry. But it has to be done. They are mine.” Riku nodded in understanding.   
  
“Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed his forehead.   
  
“Not at all. I’ll make it quick.” Riku closes his eyes and smiled. Kagome infused the sutra with enough reiki to kill him instantly and let it fly. Riku turned to dust immediately. She said a quiet prayer and summoned a wave of reiki to blow it away.  
  
John walked forward and tried to lighten her up. “Merciful today were you? Not like you.” He teased. Kagome snarled angrily and ran a hand through her hair. John frowned and Sherlock and Greg started towards them. “Kagome? Are you okay?” Kagome turned away from him and leaned forward against the wall, hands supporting her, hiding her face from him.  
  
“Damn him.” She growled. Then she stiffened as she felt Moriarty come up next to her.   
  
“Damn who, my dear?” Kagome grit her teeth, hating how her stomach ached in anticipation and fear. She hissed at him. He tutted. “Now, now. All I did was ask you a question.”   
  
“You, then! I am damning you! Because you deserve it you arrogant, stuck-up son of a -”   
  
“Kagome? You do know that, to anyone else, you are yelling at thin air?” She looked at John and then glanced at Moriarty’s smug features. She scoffed and looked away again, but kept silent. Silently fuming. Lestrade was watching her with a mixture of horror and worry. Sherlock just looked curious. Kagome couldn’t help but smile a little bit at him in amusement. He blinked in return. Her mobile rang and, looking at the ID, she answered it.  
  
“Mycroft.” She greeted cordially. John rolled his eyes and Sherlock had a similarly annoyed expression. Her lips twitched, wanting to grin, but she refrained.   
  
“Get in the car.” She pouted and turned to look at the nearest security camera.  
  
“Aw, no ‘hello, how are you?’ Now that is just rude, but okay.” She hung up and turned back to the three men watching. “I’ll be going now, but I’ll give explanations later, I promise.” Then she winked and walked away, leaving three men equally confused behind her.  
  
The car was waiting for her, as expected, and she got in. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but it was obvious that Mycroft has seen her little display. She frowned. He’d seen her at work before - maybe it was her decision to tell Lestrade.  
  
She was surprised when, instead of taking her to a random warehouse, the car stopped outside the Diogenes Club - a place she had been to only once before, when she’d negotiated with Mycroft the terms of her employment. She said nothing though, and followed the driver to the door. She was led through the corridors silently to Mycroft’s office. She was left alone, so she knocked quietly.  
  
“Come in, Kagome.” Mycroft said. She opened the door and shut it behind her. Taking in the room as she made her way to the chair, Kagome was unsurprised to find that it was unchanged from a year and a half ago.   
  
“I take it you wanted to talk to me?” Mycroft nodded from behind his desk.  
  
“Indeed. Not least because of what happened just twenty minutes ago.” Kagome nodded and rolled her eyes as she sat down, preparing herself for the questions. And the possible reappearance of Moriarty. She mentally gritted her teeth. She must finish this - today. She has had enough. Blowing out a slow breath, she leant back in her seat.  
  
“Okay. Go ahead.”  
  
“What happened today?” Kagome shrugged.  
  
“He attacked what is mine - he was peripherally aware of the consequences.” Mycroft rose an eyebrow.  
  
“Peripherally?” She grimaced.  
  
“Well, he was possessed… in a way.” Another eyebrow rose to join it’s twin in a expression of mild surprise. Kagome refrained from smiling. Mycroft, despite knowing her for well over a year, was still very much unaware of the things that existed in her world. “A spirit, or soul, or even another demon, can force another being to complete an action. This time, the spirit merely coerced the demon into attack me and mine. It was rather powerful.” Kagome frowned. “And getting stronger - it must be destroyed soon.” Mycroft’s brow furrowed in concern.  
  
“Is this spirit a threat to you? Sherlock? John?” Kagome frowned even harder and looked away.  
  
“If this spirit becomes anymore powerful… he would be able to destroy everything. His mind is… chaotic.”   
  
“ _Why thank you, my dear_.” Kagome didn’t groan, but she did shut her eyes in resignation.  
  
“It is also… startlingly clear. It’s thoughts are structured and strategic with the deadly clarity of genius.” She continued, looking back at Mycroft with a completely straight face.  
  
“And do you know who this spirit is?” Mycroft asked calmly. Kagome’s jawbone tightened momentarily.  
  
“No.” She lied. Mycroft smiled passively in response, and said nothing. She met his stare evenly.  
  
“Kagome.” He said slowly, voice carefully vacant. “Who is the spirit?” Her mouth twitched with the urge to smirk.  
  
“Why do think I know it at all?” Mycroft didn’t reply, merely looked at her with a straight expression. Kagome sighed and looked away again. Moriarty waved at her. Forgetting herself for a moment, she bared her teeth and snarled at him. “Damn you.”   
  
“Damn who?” Mycroft said unobtrusively. She glared at him.  
  
“Moriarty, of course.” She growled, before her eyes widened as she realised what she’d just said. “No, I didn’t mean -” But Mycroft’s victorious glint in his eyes silenced her. She gritted her teeth.   
  
“Moriarty?” Kagome nodded reluctantly. “And he is, as you say, powerful and has the potential to destroy everything?” Kagome nodded again.  
  
“Yes, he also has this strange thing where -” She stopped. Mycroft didn’t need to know about the pain Moriarty had inflicted on her, somehow blocking her reiki at the same time. Moriarty seemed to know this and grinned gleefully from the corner of her eye. Dread seeped into her mind.  
  
“Kagome? Is destruction what Moriarty is planning?” She hesitated. Should she tell the truth?  
  
“No. He wants his fairytale to be completed.” She said simply, with a stubborn look that said she wouldn’t explain further. Mycroft frowned at her.  
  
“You know I have to know this, Kagome. If people are in danger -” Kagome stood up abruptly and paced.  
  
“No innocents are in danger. Just…” She trailed off as Moriarty appeared in front of her, eyes soft. Her senses screamed danger and she was lucky she was near Mycroft’s desk as the pain slammed into her stomach. She groaned as her hand shot out to catch her fall, only to fail slightly as it only slowed down her descent.   
  
“Kagome?” Mycroft asked as he rose slightly, alarmed and unsure what to do.  
  
“Get John. Have him explain.” She panted. At his hesitation, she growled. “Now! Get him here now!” Stunned, Mycroft nodded and got his mobile, calling John and simultaneously having a car to go and pick him up.  
  
Duty done, Mycroft could only watch as Kagome curled up in pain, whimpering. They could only wait for John.   
  
_For God’s sake, John, hurry!_  
  
  



	7. The Final Act

John definitely hurried. He was there in ten minutes, ushered into Mycroft’s office where he immediately went to Kagome, who was now shivering on her hands and knees, and knelt down next to her.

“Kagome? What do you need me to do?” Kagome blew out a slow breath and lifted her head. She opened her eyes and stared for a minute at John.

“Explain.” She waved a hand at a troubled Mycroft. “He needs to know and I’m… unable to do so.” She continued evasively. John put the pieces together and narrowed his eyes.

“That night -” Kagome panicked and put a finger on his lips.

“Shh. Just tell Mycroft what he needs to know.” She insisted with urgency, eyes wide. Too late. She crumpled forward as the pain in her stomach intensified. Moriarty tutted disapprovingly.

“ _Oh dear. He knows. Now what to do_?” He mused to himself loudly.

“John.” She gasped out. “Tell Mycroft.” She met his eyes meaningfully. “There’s nothing you can do.” But the look in her eyes said, ‘ _leave-it-to-me_ ’. John nodded reluctantly, getting the message. Kagome put her head down again to hide her smirk.  
  
 _Soon_.  
  
“ _You know, I think, first, I should find your beloved family and kill them_.” Kagome smiled mentally. They had died in a house fire seven months ago. She still spoke to them in her dreams quite often and she could only thank the Kami that Moriarty wouldn’t be able to affect their lives now. So she didn’t rise to the taunt. She could hear the men talking, the words incoherent. “ _After all, I am nearly powerful enough to affect human lives. Maybe I should kill you… or a very special part of you, perhaps_.” He slid a ghostly hand under her stomach and pressed against her abdomen. She whimpered sharply in protest. The men’s conversation halted momentarily before continuing. “ _How about…_ ” Moriarty didn’t continue, only took his hand away.  
  
“How about what?” She hissed when it became clear he wasn’t going to continue until he heard her say something in response. She could almost feel Moriarty smirking.  
  
“ _How about I kill your lover? Or Sherlock, even. Or maybe Mycroft? All of them at the same time_?” Kagome tensed in a way that had nothing to do with pain, and the spirit knew the difference. “ _Yes_.” He hissed, satisfied to find what he was looking for. “ _I’ll scare them first - throwing things around, maybe. And then perhaps possessing them and forcing them to hurt each other? Or maybe I should do what I am doing with you at the moment. And then…_ ” Moriarty trailed off. Kagome knew what was coming next and shook her head.  
  
“No.” She whispered. He chortled delightedly.  
  
“ _Yes! Then I will kill them! Make it as slow and painful as possible - maybe force John to commit suicide in front of Sherlock - see how he likes it. Then Sherlock committing suicide in front of Big Brother. I might not even need to prompt the destruction of the Detective Inspector and Big Brother_.” He continued excitedly.  
  
Kagome felt the protective rage building up and overcome whatever barrier the pain Moriarty instilled in her created. And just like that, she had access again. She let her other side take control and felt a dark chuckle rumble to life. The men’s conversation completely stopped at the sound. They looked at each other warily. Mycroft had never seen the full force of Kagome’s darker personality in person, whereas John had, so John had a bit more experience and knew exactly what to expect from it.  
  
The chuckle stopped abruptly. “No.” Kagome purred as she slowly got up and faced Moriarty. “I won’t allow that to happen.” Her eyes turned silvery hard. “I will _destroy you first_.” Moriarty laughed a bit uneasily.  
  
“ _Really_?” He drawled. “ _And how do you expect that to happen when you have no access to your -_ ” He stopped, stunned as Kagome brought her reiki to the surface, letting everyone see the dark purple strands curling around her form. Kagome laughed harshly.  
  
“What? You actually thought your little pain-barrier technique would actually hold me?” She asked mockingly. “I will admit that it did, at first, work. But then you threatened to kill what was mine.” She continued simply before her tone darkened. “Big mistake.” She lifted a hand, glowing purple and waved it in Moriarty’s general direction. He let out a shocked cry and a barrier stopping him from moving. A sword materialised in Kagome’s hand and she grinned viciously. “Say bye bye.” Walking up to the barrier, she swung, the blade going right through Moriarty.  
  
He laughed shakily. “ _Was that actually meant to do -_ ” He was cut off as his see-through body was disintegrated into a pile of ash which was blown away by a supernatural wind. Kagome sighed in relief as she dematerialised her sword, locking her darker side away again. She turned to Mycroft and John with a cheery smile, ignoring their wary and shocked faces.  
  
“The threat had been terminated. What else do you need to know?”


	8. Epilogue

Kagome sighed, a small, phantom twinge echoing in her stomach. She grimaced. She had no idea how long this would continue - phantom pains in her stomach. Moriarty was clever, causing her muscles to cramp up nearly every time he was around her. Now she only had to think about him for her stomach to curl in anticipation, even though she’d destroyed him twenty-four days ago.

Looking down at the Thames below her, ignoring the people around her that were rushing on with their lives, Kagome allowed herself a moment to breathe and relax. Sherlock was back in business and had numerous cases per week, John and Kagome tagging along. She’d met some of the Homeless Network and they’d taken to her very well - even helping her on some of her own cases. Some of them recognised her for what she was, but as far as she knew, they told no one about it.

A familiar aura distantly pierced her thoughts and her eyes widened. Without conscious decision, her lips lifted upwards into a small smile. “Irene.” She breathed.

“Hello, Kagome.” Kagome turned her head, not bothering with the rest of her body that was leaning on the railing of the bridge. Irene smiled prettily. “Feeling better?” Kagome laughed.

“Yes, very much so. Thank you, by the way.” Irene winked.

“Anytime. Though who would have thought that we’d meet once again in London?” Kagome’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Speaking of, why are you here? Mycroft still thinks you are dead, Sherlock - of course - knows your still alive and John knows as well. Don’t you think that walking in plain view of security cameras is a bad idea. Any where I go, I get watched.” Irene raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“And you know the Holmes brothers and John Watson? Interesting.” Kagome blushed, for some reason that she couldn’t explain.

“I work at the Yard and I’ve known for the better part of four months that Sherlock didn’t really commit suicide. John needed the support.”

“How did you come to be included in those three anyway?” She smiled.

“DI Lestrade was worried about the way I act at crime scenes, so he brought in John to… psycho-analyse me, I suppose. I, of course, resisted.” Irene snickered.

“Of course you did.” Kagome rolled her eyes.

“And for the seven or eight months before that, I was like a personal assassin for Mycroft Holmes himself. I was careless one night, and dealt with a problem in front of a security camera. Mycroft found out and kidnapped me. I agreed to being employed and basically carried on doing what I was doing originally - only legally.” Irene rolled her eyes this time.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Kagome.” She said with a small smile. “You always knew how to attract the strangest of people. Well, when you weren’t in a deep depression.” The smile turned into a wicked smirk. “We should catch up. Talk a little bit more, when we have a little bit more time.”

Kagome laughed and found herself blushing. “Well you know what I like.” The smirk widened.

“Indeed I do.” Kagome looked around and noticed two camera nearby that were focussed of them. She smiled at Irene.

“You should probably go. Mycroft is, no doubt, going to be giving me a good talking to.” Irene came closer and kissed both of her cheeks. “See you later, Irene.”

“Goodbye, Kagome. You know where to find me.” Kagome smiled.

“Always.”

 

Sherlock and John, both sitting down and discussing the points of the most recent case, looked at each other in confusion when they heard the front door close and someone come skipping up the stairs. Kagome appeared in the doorway, smiling happily. 

“Hello, boys!” She carried on through to the kitchen. They looked at each other in confusion. Sherlock shrugged, he didn’t have a clue why she was so happy - there was an unfamiliar scent that followed her in, but apart from knowing that she had met up with a woman, he had no idea.

She came back in minutes later with three cups of tea and a plate of HobNobs, which she put in front of Sherlock, knowing that it’s pretty much the only thing he’d eat when on a case.

“Why are you so happy?” Kagome frowned playfully.

“Am I not allowed to be happy now?” John shook his head, a small smile on his face, Kagome‘s good mood being as contagious as a common cold.

“Yes, but usually there’s a reason for it.” She titled her head in assent.

“True. But it’s always a good occasion when the woman you’ve missed appears back in your life.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the odd wording, noting Kagome’s mischievous glace in his direction. John took no heed - Kagome could be strange when she wanted to be. Kagome smirked when she noticed that Sherlock had noticed the odd way of putting that sentence. “It’s like she hid from me and the world - she pretty much disappeared.” She continued, giving Sherlock all the clues he needed, if he could just put them together.

Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin, case momentarily forgotten as he focussed on Kagome’s cryptic words.

_She hid from the world._

_Disappeared._

_The woman._

_Appeared._

_Back in your life._

He drew in a sharp breath. The Woman was back. Mystery solved, Sherlock turned back to the case when one question niggled at the back of his mind. One question that was discarded for the present case and would be re-examined later.

How did she know?


End file.
